Once Stalked (A Riley Paige Mystery—Book 9)

by Blake Pierce

  She said, “It’s too bad Sergeant Worthing won’t be here to see you get those chevrons. He’d be proud.”

  Now Riley saw that his fists were clenched at his sides, and his jaw was tight.

  She kept walking. The path was taking them to higher ground, but the sound of crashing waves was getting louder. After a few more steps, she could see that on one side of the path a cliff dropped down to the water. A guardrail was placed to keep viewers well back from the edge.

  “Have you ever killed anybody?” Pope asked.

  Riley was startled.

  Why is he asking that?

  But she saw no point in lying about it.

  “Yes. Have you?”

  She knew that she was asking a loaded question. As a recruit in basic training, he shouldn’t have killed anybody.

  But maybe he has, Riley thought.

  Instead of answering her question he asked, “How many people have you killed?”

  “I don’t talk about it,” Riley said.

  She felt a creeping uneasiness.

  It wasn’t something she liked to think about, much less talk about. If she ever stopped to think about it, she could surely remember the exact number of people she’d killed in the line of duty. But she tried to stay away from that dark part of her psyche.

  What bothered her at the moment was that she was letting him get to her. She had wanted to open him up, but he was pushing her buttons.

  And he was surprisingly good at it.

  She needed to turn the tables.

  She said, “Tell me more about Sergeant Worthing.”

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “Well, I didn’t see any of the other recruits shedding any tears over him.”

  “What makes you think I felt different?”

  “You stayed behind after the ceremony. You stood over his grave.”

  He let out a grunt of irritation.

  Then he said, “I guess a BAU agent like you has seen a lot of danger in your life, right?”

  Again, Riley felt a little bit taken aback. She sensed that he was up to something. She didn’t reply.

  Pope said, “So I’ll bet you’re pretty fearless, huh?”

  Riley felt increasingly uncomfortable, but she still said nothing.

  Pope chuckled under his breath.

  “Nice view of the ocean from here, isn’t it?” he said.

  “Very nice,” Riley said.

  “I know where it’s nicer,” Pope said. “Want me to show you?”

  Riley didn’t reply.

  “Come on,” Pope said. “Let me show you.”

  He veered around the end of the guardrail, walking between it and the drop to the ocean. He stepped across a weedy patch of ground and then out onto a wide projection that hung over the water.

  Riley followed him.

  They stood side by side on the edge of a precipice that dropped straight down. She could hear the waves crashing on the rocks below. She looked down queasily. It was at least sixty or seventy feet to the bottom.

  “Quite a view, huh?” Pope said.

  Riley still said nothing. She realized that she was actually afraid. She wasn’t particularly afraid of heights. But in a place like this, she knew it was a perfectly natural reaction.

  And yet he was standing closer to the edge of the cliff than she was—and she sensed that he wasn’t frightened at all.

  That’s what he wants, she thought.

  He wanted her to be scared of something that didn’t scare him.

  Riley took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Moving carefully, she stepped back from the edge, back toward the guardrail.

  The man moved back beside her.

  Then she felt his hand on her shoulder.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Riley didn’t wait to find out the soldier’s intent. She stooped over and hurled herself headfirst into Private Pope’s abdomen. He toppled to the ground, and she planted her foot on his chest.

  She was about to draw her weapon when he grabbed her leg and threw her to the side. By the time she regained her balance, he was on his feet, and she was in a violent clinch with him.

  As they staggered back and forth in the space between the guardrail and the cliff, Riley realized that she didn’t know where the edge was. If they stumbled off it together, it would mean both their deaths.

  He’s strong, she realized.

  In fact, he was much stronger than he looked—wiry and muscular. And he was a skilled fighter too. He had lots of potential.

  She pushed sharply against his chest, breaking out of his grip. This time, he was the one who was caught off balance.

  And now Riley could see that he was right at the edge of the cliff. She reached out and grabbed his hand just in time to stop him from falling. Then she swung him around to safety, slamming him into the rail beside them.

  Riley shuddered with relief. The last thing she wanted right now was to get him killed. She just wanted to teach him some manners.

  Disoriented, Pope fell to his knees. Before he could get up again, Riley whipped out her cuffs and pulled one of his arms up behind his back. He struggled to get away, but she slapped the cuff on that wrist and rammed her knee into his back, pushing him face down in the dirt. Before he could move again, she had his other arm pulled back and cuffed too.

  Pope turned his head.

  “Pretty good—for a chick,” he sneered.

  She snapped, “Don’t go overboard thanking me for saving your piece-of-shit excuse for a life.”

  She grabbed the back of his collar and dragged him along the ground between the cliff and the guardrail.

  He scrambled to get his feet under him, but each time he got to his knees she slammed him forward on his face again.

  Finally Pope grew quiet and stayed still.

  Riley realized that they were both panting for breath. She let go of Pope and looked out across the ocean. It was still a lovely view.

  After a few moments, Pope asked weakly, “Are you going to arrest me?”

  Riley didn’t reply.

  “It would destroy my career,” he said.

  “Do you really care about your army career?” she asked him.

  There was a brief silence. Then he said, “More than anything.”

  “Then trying to kill me was a bad idea.”

  “I wasn’t. Really, I wasn’t.”

  Riley was starting to understand that this was a familiar situation. He was just a macho, misogynist jerk who hated the very idea of a woman with a badge and a gun.

  He’d had no intention of really killing her. He’d only wanted to give her a good scare and teach her a lesson.

  That hadn’t worked out very well for him.

  She reached down and released the cuffs. Then she stood back as Pope got shakily to his feet.

  “You damn near got us both killed,” Riley said. “You’re an idiot. You won’t live long if you keep pulling this kind of stunt. God help you if you ever see combat.”

  This time Pope didn’t reply. He brushed mechanically at his uniform, trying to clean the dirt off.

  Riley said, “Tell me about Sergeant Worthing.”

  “What do you want to know?” Pope asked.

  “How angry were you with him?”

  Pope’s mouth dropped open with surprise.

  “What’s this all about?” he said. “Do you think I killed him?”

  “Did you?”

  Pope looked offended now—and even hurt.

  “He was a good man,” he said. “I wouldn’t have killed him for the world.”

  Riley was starting to feel confused.

  “He busted you down a pay grade,” she said. “Took away your mosquito wings.”

  Pope shrugged and smirked.

  “Heard about that, did you?” he said. “I should have figured that was why you got so nosy. Yeah, he busted me. And let me tell you, I sure as hell had it coming. When I came to Fort Mowat, I thought I was some sort of a rebel. Do you know what
he told me when he busted me? ‘I was a rebel at your age. You’re not even a pimple on a rebel’s ass.’”

  He laughed. There was a note of admiration in his voice.

  “And he was right,” he said. “I’m damned glad he straightened me out.”

  Riley’s gut told her that his admiration was perfectly genuine.

  Pope hadn’t killed Sergeant Worthing. In fact, he might well be the only recruit in Worthing’s platoon who truly missed him.

  Pope said, “So what are you going to do? Are you going to arrest me?” He was getting a bit of his spirit back. “I didn’t attack you. I didn’t plan to attack you. In fact, I’m pretty sure you attacked me.”

  Riley knew that her action was perfectly justified. She also knew that he’d never meant to kill her.

  There’s no law against being an asshole, she thought.

  Besides, arresting him would distract her from the case at hand.

  When she made no reply, he asked pleadingly, “Can I please go?”

  “You can go,” Riley said.

  He wheeled and started to walk away. Then he turned toward Riley again.

  He said, “I hope you catch the bastard who killed the sarge. And when you do, I hope you’ll give me five minutes alone with him. I’ve got to admit, though—the son of a bitch is one hell of a marksman. I hope I can shoot like that someday.”

  He held Riley’s gaze for a moment. Then he said, “Sergeant Worthing was more than a soldier. A whole lot more. He ran with the pack.”

  The phrase puzzled Riley.

  “What does that mean—ran with the pack?” she asked.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Pope said. “Never in a thousand years could you understand. You can’t even imagine. Not many of us can.”

  “Try me,” she said.

  Then he looked her straight in the eye and said, “You’re pretty gullible, aren’t you? It doesn’t mean anything at all.”

  He turned again and walked away laughing.

  Riley stood there thinking, turning what he’d said over and over in her mind.

  “He ran with the pack.”

  It meant something. Pope knew something.

  She planned to keep her eye on him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Riley’s shock at what had happened on the cliff didn’t kick in for a while. A deep shudder finally shook her at the oddest possible moment.

  She was staring across the wide beach to the ocean, a scene that was streaked red and gold in the fierce light of the evening sun. It was an incredible view from one of a line of small cottages that the base provided for some of its temporary visitors. She wondered whether Col. Adams had given them this cottage to keep them happy or to keep them distracted.

  She heard Bill ask, “Are you OK?”

  He’d obviously noticed her spasm of fear.

  They were both sitting on the patio drinking margaritas that Lucy had made. The younger agent had taken it upon herself to pick up groceries and stock the kitchen. Right now Lucy was in the kitchen fixing a special dinner.

  Riley took another sip of the salt-rimmed, fruity drink. Although she seldom drank tequila, she appreciated the relaxing effect. She had already told her companions about her encounter, but it had felt like describing something that had happened to someone else. The terror hadn’t struck until now.

  “Yeah, I’m OK,” Riley told Bill. “It was a close call, though.”

  Bill shook his head.

  “I don’t know, Riley,” he said. “I’m not sure you shouldn’t report what happened to Col. Larson. Or at least the MPs.”

  For a moment, Riley wondered about that as well. But again, she felt sure that it was best this way.

  “Private Pope isn’t our killer, Bill,” she said. “And he wasn’t actually trying to kill me.”

  “But you said you think he knows something,” Bill said.

  “Maybe—just maybe,” Riley said. “But I really don’t think he actually knows about the murders. I think he might know something that he doesn’t realize is connected. He might reveal more if we don’t push him.”

  As she and Bill sat quietly watching the sunset for a few more moments, Riley realized that she’d learned a lesson today. She’d faced dozens of truly dangerous psychopaths, many of them bent on killing her in cruel and sadistic ways. But she’d seldom felt the kind of fear that hit her today.

  Why is that? Riley wondered.

  Of course, her life had been in danger on that cliff. For that matter, so had Pope’s.

  If one or both of them had gone over that cliff, it would have been an accident—a stupid and pointless accident.

  But Riley would be dead, as surely as if she’d been done in by some murderous monster.

  He’s just a kid, Riley thought. A really stupid kid.

  And in a way, that made him more dangerous than a seasoned psychopath who had some idea of what he was doing.

  On a training base like this, there were probably hundreds of rash, stupid kids just like him—determined to prove themselves men long before they really were men. They needed army discipline to make that transition.

  She and her colleagues needed to be careful here.

  Riley was surprised by the sound of a gasp behind her. Both she and Bill turned to look. Lucy was standing there with tears in her eyes.

  “Lucy!” Riley said. “What’s the matter?”

  Lucy hastily wiped her eyes and smiled.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Come on in. Supper’s ready.”

  Riley and Bill picked up their margaritas and joined Lucy at the table for delicious tacos. The three agents talked idly for a little while about their day. Aside from Riley’s misadventure with Private Pope, it had been pretty uneventful. They had individually interviewed a few more recruits and learned almost nothing. They had also scheduled their work for tomorrow, setting up interviews with the soldiers in the other two platoons that had lost their sergeants.

  Lucy seemed fine as they ate and talked, but Riley was curious about her tearful reaction to the ocean. She realized there was a great deal that she and Bill didn’t know about their younger colleague.

  Riley thought the world of her, of course. She knew that Lucy had accomplished a lot even before coming to Quantico. Riley had seen Lucy’s amazing high school and college grades, and she knew that Lucy had aced every challenge at the FBI Academy. And Riley had seen Lucy’s achievements as a field agent firsthand.

  Now she noticed Lucy cast another wistful glance toward the ocean again as she ate.

  Riley asked, “Is there something wrong, Lucy?”

  Lucy let out a rather nervous laugh.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” she said. “It’s just that I sometimes get a little emotional at the sight of the Pacific. I haven’t been out here in a long time.”

  Lucy went on eating as if there was nothing to say. But Riley kept looking at her expectantly, and she sensed the Bill was doing the same.

  Finally, Lucy began to explain.

  “My parents were undocumented way back when they came here from Mexico. They traveled up and down California picking crops and doing other farm work. It was awfully hard work, and it got harder when they started having kids. And they lived in constant fear of deportation.”

  Lucy paused, looking down at the table.

  Then she said, “In 1986 President Reagan signed the Immigration Reform and Control Act. It granted amnesty to some three million undocumented Mexicans—including my parents. That gave our family our first real security. We settled in Sacramento, and my parents went to work for a lawn care business. Eventually they were able to buy the business.”

  Lucy looked out toward the ocean again.

  “It was hard work. We never took family vacations. But Mamá and Papá gave up everything so that my brothers and I would have all the opportunities they didn’t have. My brother Carlos is going to take over the family business. Victor is on his way toward becoming a lawyer.”

  Still looking toward the oce
an, Lucy heaved a bittersweet sigh.

  “There was always so much work to do. Even though we lived in Sacramento, I never got to see the ocean, not during my whole childhood. I knew that it was there, just about a hundred miles away. But I never went there. When I was accepted in college, I knew my life was changing. I finally drove out to see the ocean on my own. It was …”

  Lucy’s voice trailed off. She wiped away a tear.

  “It was just so beautiful. It still is. Whenever I see it, it reminds me of how lucky I am, and how proud I am to live in this country and to do the work that I do. And I think about all the sacrifices my parents made so I could have this life.”

  Riley felt herself choking up now.

  Bill asked Lucy, “Are your parents still alive?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “They must be very proud of you,” Riley said.

  Lucy nodded again. She seemed too overcome to speak.

  Riley gazed at Lucy in admiring silence.

  She remembered how it had felt to be so young and hopeful.

  What a great life she’s got ahead of her, Riley thought.

  She and her companions finished their meal, talking mostly about little things that didn’t matter.

  *

  After dinner, Riley took a walk alone on the beach. Although the sun had set, it wasn’t completely dark yet.

  Her phone buzzed with a call from April.

  “Hey, Mom,” April said. “Crack the case yet?”

  Riley sighed a little.

  “I wish,” she said.

  “Jilly’s going to be disappointed. She was sure you’d have solved it by now.”

  Riley laughed.

  “Tell Jilly to be patient,” she said. “What’s going on with you?”

  “I just got back from a date with Liam,” April said.

  Uh-oh, Riley thought. Is this good news or bad news?

  “We went to a foreign languages fair,” April said. “All the local high schools were involved, and Liam wanted to go. He and I went from booth to booth, where we got to try saying something in all sorts of languages.”

  Riley stifled a chuckle. Not long ago, April would have found the idea of a foreign languages fair to be thoroughly uncool.